ART – Aesthete and other fallacies

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GREEN SNOW APPLE

I know I was the child of symmetry. My mother used to tell me how classically boring I used to look: “Nothing substantial to notice you my dear. You will have to work at it.”

Well no need. Destiny fangs sunk deep in me soon after.

The first wolf ran off with my heart leaving me with a terrible tendency to cry and endure exacerbate emotions. Then at 14 another wolf took a good chunk of the right side of my face. While the first event wasn’t noticed by anyone, my mother who was the first one to feel sorry for my lack of physical distinction, was surprisingly more upset by this new turn of fate. My open flesh were put back together surgically by my father’s gifted hands. The scars did not vanished but were diminished. However the symmetry of my features were forever spoiled.

My heart missed many beats and my face earned expressiveness.

I do like both in all their obvious irregularities, the bump that distort my nose, the uncountable glitches of my feelings shifting between fear and courage, the oddity of a missing cheekbone, the dents in my logic, the variation in the right wing of my beak, The knots reaching my throat when I hear your voice or see your hands, the arc of my right eye off track and the gap between you’re your feelings and mine.

The partition is full of variable flaws and as the music tinkle down our witnesses hears I know and can swear on all my pagan gods that I am blessed.

Time is eroding the stiches as the skin loses its shape and my heart has not the same fortitude but you are by my side for a while. I am fortunate and it is time for me to bite instead of being bitten. I am sinking my teeth into the bitter sweet green snow apple of your unique mind as you give me back a piece of what you took away 45 years ago.

As my father you are gifted and doing a work of art, the symmetry is not attainable and time can’t be reversed but you have extracted from me a beauty I could never have achieved before.